The City by the Sea
by ArouraLeona
Summary: On the western coast of Fiore there is a medium-sized town with the cumbersome name of The City by the Sea. Insular and mysterious, The City by the Sea is usually viewed with a sideways glance and mild discomfort, but recently discomfort has become fear & fear, terror. Something supernatural is hunting there, & Levy is determined to stop the killing. **NEW UPDATE 24/2** *Chapter 8*
1. Chapter 1

_**The City by the Sea**_

_**One**_

There is a city by the sea, which has no name. It is hardly a city, but its residents are proud. The City by the Sea is settled on the westernmost tip of Fiore. It's an isolated place where family trees were seeded, and where they grow with only rare cuttings transplanted away, or brought into their sea-side forest.

It is a place of rumor and mystery. And it is a place for fish. Many fish. Lots of fish. Some of even the best kinds of fish. The water on Fiore's western coast is wild, and creatures from those wild waters make good dinners for people throughout their country.

One might wonder how it is possible that such a place, rich with such bounty, could stay so isolated. Could stay so close-knit. Well, it is a place of rumor and mystery. Rumor and mystery enough to weaken the courage of many a man interested in nothing but money and control.

The people of The City by the Sea are bred in rumor. In mystery. In courage greater than that of urban industrialists who know nothing of the violence of open water. The City by the Sea is a place all its own, and no one, but no one, can bring it down.

* * *

How were things done, Levy wondered, in The City by the Sea? She'd heard stories, of course, and the mission seemed to confirm those stories, but she preferred to believe her own judgment. Rumor was for fiction. Enjoyed, yes, but labeled – rightly – as fiction.

It was beautiful, she'd give it that. The road curved over a hill, providing a lovely scenic view of the blue horizon, white strip of beach, and colorful buildings. Each was unique, painted in a riot of bright colors, dotting the view like a cluster of jewels.

"And more than one of them is haunted," she smiled. She was not, perhaps, the best mage for this job, but she was knowledgeable about the subject, if not an expert, and the very idea intrigued her. She'd read a lot about such supernatural phenomenon, and the possibility of actually encountering a non-violent but malevolent spirit, something unlike that of her guild's First … something of motive and emotion but not thought or being...

It would be a job that required cleverness, she had decided, not strength, so she had come alone. The mission request had also noted that a female mage would be preferred. She would do fine, she knew. Her confidence had grown in recent months, and she took pride in the fact that she walked the long road on her own and with her head held high. Eager. Unafraid.

"Miss?" The voice, hesitant, came from behind her. "I'm sorry, miss, but if you wouldn't mind..."

She turned to see a man in a cart, stopped because she was gawking in the middle of the road. Caught up in her thoughts and ego. So caught up, in fact, that she didn't hear the cart's approach. She blushed.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" Levy moved right, out of his way, and offered a small bow. "I didn't mean to slow you down."

"'s no problem. Saw your guild mark," Levy reached up to touch the mark on her back. "You here 'bout our monster?"

"Monster," she turned her eyes back to the colors down the hill. "I heard … the request said _ghost_." She looked up at him, shading her eyes from the falsely cheerful sun, glaring at her and the man as it traveled nearer and nearer to the sea. "What makes you say _monster_ instead?"

"It _feeds_, miss. Ain't never heard of no ghost that does that. And we hear of most everything down here."

"Why do others claim it's a ghost, then?"

"No one's seen it. Actually seen it. We've seen it _feed_. Watched chunks of a gal vanish, bite by bite, and drops of blood fall through empty air. Nothin' t'see but the dyin'."

She lowered her hand, looking again towards the sea, towards the city. "Has anyone attempted to touch it?"

"Tried. Saw it eat a boy. More than one of us tried to throw the thing off. Boy's mama wrapped herself 'round the body, but it did no good. Still ate. Still died."

She leaned forward to listen to those final words before rocking back onto her heels. Shifting. She bit her lip waiting for a thought, and then settled on flat feet.

_They obfuscated on the request. A job like this, monster … if it's not S-class, it would still draw a team like Erza, Natsu, and Gray … maybe even Elfman and Mira. _She repressed a shudder, not wanting to think less of her own abilities. _But then it is not slowed by _physical_ means. Barriers might help, but not physical ones._

It had been a long time since she picked apart one of Freed's runes. She had studied them, and knew how they were made, but she'd only played at making her own. Not even her own, she had used _his_ style, just in case she was forced into a confrontation with him in the exam. Years and years and years ago.

She put a hand on her bag, mentally sorting the books she had brought with her. She had two that might give her some help. Only two. _Why_ had they lied about what their problem was?

"I'm going to need access to the town's records, and I would like to speak with all witnesses. Has anyone managed to survive an encounter with the creature?"

"No, miss, not a one."

She clicked her tongue. A survivor would have been extremely useful. Ah, well.

"I can give you a ride in, if you'd like," he gestured at the back of his cart. Town center's on my way to port, and the mayor's place is right next t' that."

"Thank you." She climbed in with a grunt. "What is it you do, may I ask?"

"Transport the catch inland. Come to the City for the evenin' catch," he pointed at a lacrima nestled in the cart floor, "turn on the frost a bit, take it to the next town in – that's Longroad – drop it off for the mornin' market, kiss my wife good mornin' then sleep 'til it's time to head out again."

"Ah, so you're only in the City at night."

"Dusk til near midnight, that's right, miss."

"And you've seen an attack."

"Two."

"Ah." She chewed on her lip. "Have they all been in the nighttime?"

"No, miss. Least two durin' the early hours of light."

"And how many, all told?"

"Fourteen as of last night. Twelve at night, and two early in the day." The cart swerved slightly to the left to avoid a small creature running across the road. Levy couldn't tell what it was.

She looked out at the sea. "Foggy?"

"Miss?"

"The mornings, was there fog?"

"Likely. Fog comes some mornin's. This time of year, more than most."

"I'll need witness of the morning attacks," she muttered to herself. She sat in silence for several long minutes with the rocking of the cart and the steady thrum of wheels on dirt and gravel to provide a background music to her thoughts.

"You say you saw two?"

From behind him she watched as his shoulders stiffened, but the tone of his voice remained the same. "Yes."

"Were there any sounds. Things you wouldn't normally hear?"

The man turned to look at her. Levy caught a shadow of fear lingering to darken his eyes.

"The screamin'. That wasn't normal."

No. She supposed it wasn't.

* * *

**Author's note**: I'm not sure if there will be much (if any, I'll be honest) romance in this story. This is about Levy, a job just for her. I'm a complete Ga/le fangirl, no question, but I wanted to see something that was her and only her. Not finding what I wanted (not that there aren't good Levy stories out there, I just couldn't calm the craving, if you will), I decided to write one myself.

I know that romance is the fanfic crowd's drug of choice, but I hope you'll stay around without a guarantee of that.

_But Al_ (you might say, if you felt the need to abbreviate my account name in such a manner) _what about _Forever Night, _that story you wrote like 100 years ago and never finished that takes place actually IN the sea?_

Eh...'bout that. No clue if I'll finish it. I hate it. I can't stand it. I have no idea what to do with it, and it's no one's fault but my own. But, I don't think that will be a problem here since I already have the final chapter worked out (and put on paper for the most part).


	2. Chapter 2

_**The City by the Sea**_

_**Two**_

The City by the Sea. Such a cumbersome name. And rather egotistical as well, Levy thought as she passed the town borders and road through streets lined with flamboyantly painted houses and shops. _The_. _The,_ as if this jeweled place were the _only_ town with an ocean view.

Though it might be the only sea-side town to be a hunting ground for evil. Perhaps it could add _that_ little fact to its over-long name.

"Here we are, miss. I need to get to port. Monster or no monster, still jobs to do. Fish don't swim themselves inland."

"Quite right." She offered him the brightest of her smiles. He had been a great help to her, and the information he gave her would make her better prepared for the interview with the mayor, who had likely deliberately dumbed down the threat of the job listed on the request form. "And thank you so much for the ride and the information. I promise you, I'll do all that I can."

"I believe you will, miss." He touched two fingers to the corner of his eye, and pulled away.

"Hello," an old woman said from the doorway of the large green building to Levy's left. "How may I help you?"

Levy managed not to jump at the voice. That was the second time today that she had been too distracted to hear what was going on around her. Now that she was alerted to the fact, she tried to focus on her surroundings and realized that the place was abnormally quiet in both sound and movement.

She swallowed. "I'm hoping to help you, ma'am." She held out a copy of the job request, "My name is Levy. I am a mage from the guild Fairy Tail."

"Ah," the woman held the door open for her, "you'll want to come in, then, and I'll explain our little situation."

_Little situation._

Right.

Levy was led through a large open entryway and into a cozy office with large windows offering a beautiful view of the town and water. The old women gestured at one of the large arm chairs before taking her own seat behind the large, pale-wood desk. With the sun setting faster and faster, it hung, veiled, behind the woman's head, obscuring her features while highlighting her silhouette.

"I am, as you must have guessed, the mayor of The City by the Sea."

Levy waited for the woman, the mayor, to offer her name, but she said no more. Wanting to roll her eyes and snort, she thought it annoying, but fitting. For all she knew there was a tradition of towns without names to have mayors without names.

Or maybe this one was just eccentric. Who knew.

"Yes, Mayor, I had guessed that." She placed the job ticket on the desk, and slid it in the mayor's direction. "I would like to start by asking you a few questions."

"Of course," the mayor smiled, and Levy squared her shoulders in an attempt to convey more authority than her face and stature normally projected.

"First, I have been offered compelling eyewitness testimony that the disturbances in question were physical in nature. More like those of a monster than a ghost, as was stated on the request. This would naturally change the mission parameters significantly. Why was this information not given?"

"The creature has no body. What would you call it?"

"There are no small number of spectral creatures, incorporeal beings, which are not ghosts, that can cause damage to the living. Ghosts, as they are most commonly known, are left-behind spirits, most usually of people. Their business with the living world tends to be, if not benevolent, benign. They wish to watch over family and friends, to protect their homes or loved ones. They are defined and confined by the history and memory of their once-living selves. They don't travel far from their territory. They don't," she narrowed her eyes, "feed on the flesh of the living.

"I will have to hear more of this creature before I can put a name to it, but from what I've heard this far, I do believe I can banish it," she hoped, "but the tools I brought," she pointed to the bag at her side, "are not made for use against the entirety of the supernatural realm. I would ask that you be honest in future requests."

The mayor began to inhale, likely in protest of her words or tone, but Levy continued before the mayor could speak. "Second, I will need to take time to walk the town."

"Can you finish this tonight?" the mayor asked. The hint of down-turned lips captured Levy's attention, but her face was still, for the most part, hidden as the red sun set behind her.

"I'm going to try."

"Any more requests?" there was a touch of sarcasm there, and Levy cocked her head slightly to the left to catch the sound.

"I've not made any requests as of yet, but: Third, when the sun rises, if the monster remains at large, I will need to speak with every witness." She paused and the mayor tapped her finger on the desktop in impatience.

"Fourth? The sun is, as you must see, disappearing."

"Fourth, give me a break down of the numbers. How many females? Males? How many families?"

"Five boys, nine girls. None from the same family."

"Ages?"

"Youngest was six, oldest was 24."

"Who was the youngest?"

"Branbeck, boy."

Levy tapped her chin, "The eldest?"

"Kitty Ladyhearth, female."

"Tell me," Levy stared at a spot over the mayor's shoulder, "the five boys, were they the youngest?"

The older woman's eyes went wide with surprise, "Yes. Aged six to 11, Grandice only turned 11 three weeks ago."

"And the youngest of the girls?"

"Thirteen. Blue. Blue Thompson." There was pain visible now in the mayor's posture. Blue was someone she knew. Knew and liked. A relative, perhaps.

"Prepubescent males, post-pubescent females." She wasn't sure what it meant, but there was some significance there. "

"Any of them alone when they died?"

"No."

"And people only? You've had no abnormal animal deaths? No pets, no wild creatures found with similar wounds?"

A pause, hesitation. "This thing doesn't leave much in the way of an identifiable body. But … Kenta, he has goats. Cheesemaker. One morning he went to milk his nanny goats, and found half of his herd slaughtered."

"You think it might be caused by the same being?"

"I never thought … but we never found out who did it. Then _this_ began to happen and we had bigger problems than a few dead goats."

She nodded, "Next question. Two weeks is a long time to watch people killed. Especially when these people are killed in public through terrifyingly abnormal means. Were any of those women mages? Guild mages?"

She watched the mayor's shoulders droop.

"Yes. The first mage answered five days in. We sent at three. She died after two nights here."

"In the fog?" Levy guessed.

"In the fog," the mayor agreed.

"And the second woman to die in the fog?"

"Yes. Six days later. Another mage."

"And how long was she in the City?"

Three days. Two dead on her watch, and then her own."

"She died this morning?"

"Yes."

Levy sat back and stared. She had signed the request two days ago. "You sent out multiple requests for the job. With different descriptions. You knew that what you had was not a ghost, but you had already called for a mage to tackle a creature not a ghost … you could not make another offer until…" She swallowed again. "You did not expect her to succeed."

"No."

"Then why let her try? Why not make your request clearer. Why not ask for stronger mages?"

"We cannot afford stronger mages."

"Ah. And you don't have to pay dead ones. You could get lucky and a cheap mage could solve your problem, but if they don't, you're not obligated to pay."

No answer. No movement.

"You could have ended this five days in, with your first mage, if the mage had the proper information. If the request had drawn a mage who could actually match your threat." Some part of her wanted to smile, hard smile, angry smile. She was so angry. Holding that feeling inside of her skin _hurt_. She grit her teeth and kept her mouth closed.

The mayor's shoulders drooped further. "We must make do with what we have."

"I hope that's enough to rest your conscience on," she told the old woman before standing. "Well, I have the night, and – weather willing – the morning will not be foggy."

The mayor nodded.

"Any possible hunting grounds?"

"There is no one place."

"The girls are spreading out? Hiding?"

"Yes."

"Mmm, makes it harder on me, and probably doesn't do a thing to disrupt _it_. Just leaves me with no witnesses." Levy waved a hand. "Map." The word grew in front of her, thin as parchment paper, glowing with the layout of The City by the Sea, roads like veins and buildings like tiny, square scales.

"Locate: Women under 30, boys under 12." Points of light appeared all over the word, and, as the mayor said, no two were together. She touched the glowing red point that represented her, and sighed.

"Well then," she turned the word so that the mayor could see it, "where has the creature _not_ killed?"

"The pier," she answered without a second to consider. "This building. Most buildings. Most were taken in the streets."

Levy looked at the _map_. There were no women or boys on the pier. No little dots glowed in the streets. And there was only one dot in the mayor's residence. All of the dots were closeted, in groups of one, inside the little square scales that bordered the City's veins.

"Which is why they're all keeping to their houses now?"

"Correct."

Levy asked the question she'd been wanting to ask since talking to the man in the cart, "Why are the women even in the City? Why haven't they left?"

"There are over two hundred girls in the age bracket you mentioned. Where would they go? What would they do? They have lives here, families, jobs."

"Well. Seven of them don't. Neither do five of your boys."

"Twelve people out of hundreds," the mayor said. "I don't mean to sound callous, but even if they're afraid, most people don't believe it could happen to them. There are a few that left the City, but they had contacts, family outside. Most of us don't. We were born City, as were our parents and our parents' parents."

Levy walked to the door, and the mayor followed her. "Yes, I understand that, but this," she waved at the word, "helps no one. We already know that no one has died on their own, but there's no reason to suspect that won't change. Up until now I'd be willing to bet that people stayed with their daughters and sisters and wives in order to protect them..."

"Yes," the mayor cleared her throat and followed Levy into the street, "that's accurate. Now we're trying something different."

The word pulsed and her dot moved as she walked in the direction of the pier.

_I'm a woman under 30. I'm a woman in The City by the Sea. I'm the preferred prey of the evil that hunts here._

Between them and the sea, a scream sent knives of alarm into the night. Before the echos died off, one of the tiny glowing dots disappeared.

**Author's Note:** And that's two. I hope that this is making sense to someone.

Thank you for reading, and please, if you would, take a moment and review.


	3. Chapter 3

_**The City by the Sea**_

_**Three**_

Levy left the mayor behind as her feet threw her into running. The scream had been so brief, but she could still hear it, surrounding her. She held _map_ in her hands and quickly navigated the streets, ending finally at the goldenrod door of a blazing red two-story house.

She tried the knob, but it didn't open. Locked. She pounded on the wood, but there was no response.

"Ram!" the word emerged from her lips, and she threw it beside the doorknob, splitting the wood. A second attack and the lock pushed through the frame. Levy kicked at the obstruction and leaped over splinters before stopping at the stairs.

_Up? _

There was no depth in her map, and the light was gone.

"No choice."

She had gone through the first level of the house by the time the mayor caught up with her. "Try the cellar," the old woman said as Levy's feet hit the stairs.

"I checked the cellar; there was nothing there." Levy took another three, four, five steps upward.

"There won't be a body," the woman made a sound like a laugh made of ice. "Only blood. And not much of that. The girls were hiding in the cellars. The hope was that it would be too small a place... But apparently not."

It was slow, turning around and returning to the kitchen. Unlatching that door, again. Opening that door, again. Taking each of the three steps down with deliberate time, watching those smooth stones. She could feel the cold penetrating the soles of her shoes. The taste of frost passed her lips and she smelled winter. Winter and blood.

"Light."

The muscles in Levy's shoulders tightened, and she bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to bleed. This was a job, her job, and she couldn't give way to fear. Or give the client reason to doubt her.

_I can do this_, she stepped onto the stone-tiled floor and spun around to take in the full view.

Spots she had seen as shadow without the light, shone with life's truest red. The edges of each stain had darkened, drying, but for the most part the splatter was fresh. The mayor had not lied, there was no body. Only a thin, stained nightdress.

But Levy had to wonder what the old woman considered "much" blood, if this was "not much".

A burlap sack, filled with large potatoes was liberally coated in the stuff, as was the wall behind and the floor beneath.

"Throat," Levy whispered, trying to sink into the logical side of her thoughts and leave behind her emotional reaction. "Only way to have that much blood," _I think. _"So she was facing away from the door." She stepped into the place where the woman would have stood. Distantly she heard the mayor make an affirmative noise.

"Creature was behind her, had to be or there would be an outline of where the attacker was..."

"No. There is nothing to block the blood. You don't understand," the mayor moved to her side, "this has _no _body."

Levy shook her head, "Maybe that's the way it's been reported, but look," she pointed down at the crescent spread of blood at her heels. Points reaching for the door. "Something was behind her. The blood spread _around _that something. As if there were feet behind her own, blocking it."

The mayor said nothing else. Levy continued, "Throat went first, when there was still enough blood and pressure to create that," she waved a hand. "There was no struggle. The blood is in front of her and below her." She walked to look at each of the walls, the shelves, the bags of apples, the barrels of grain, the wheels of cheese, and the thick slices of meat. That one made her swallow back burning bile.

She looked back at the corner with the bloody potatoes.

"She was either paralyzed, or she died quickly. What of the others? Were they killed immediately," she swallowed again, "before being consumed?"

"No. No, they were … _consumed_ while they lived. Or, for awhile, at least."

She nodded in understanding. "The thing has obviously left. And as it only attacks once a night, the others are safe," again _hopefully._ "I need to speak to the witnesses immediately. And I need you to begin the process of evacuating the remaining women and young boys from the town."

"Where?" the mayor's voice was little more than a sigh. Levy couldn't imagine dealing with such horror for as many days as this woman had. But then Levy would not have left things for as long. "Where are they supposed to go? These are their homes..."

"So you said, but we don't know what this thing is after, Mayor. From what I know of death magic," which was more than she liked, but not enough to call herself an expert, "the consumption and murder of people goes hand and hand with stealing and hording power. I believe this is being done to _create_, that explains the need for flesh and blood. And on top of that, with the deaths of the guild mages, the creature has also taken magic.

"You say it has no physical body, nothing to stop the blood. The man before told me that one of the boys … his mother tried to block its way, but she didn't feel it because she could not stop it. But this," she gestured at her feet once more, "implies that it has developed some level of form. By killing it is _creating_ a form, Mayor. We cannot let this go on, and the quickest way to stop it is to remove its intended victims."

Voices came from the door, neighbors and other City people. The mayor left the cellar to attend to them. Levy wondered at the pressure on these people that they no longer came to investigate the cause of screams. No one came to try and save the woman who lived here.

Footsteps brought someone into the kitchen and closer. Only one pair of feet. Levy looked at the doorway to see a large man filling the space.

"My sister-in-law," he told her. Voice quiet and empty of feeling.

"Ah, I'm sorry," she bowed her head and lifted her hands to press to her heart, expressing her remorse for the man's loss. "Um, your brother..."

"Died three months ago in a storm. Boat flipped. Shouldn'ta been out so late with the weather like that, but … they hadn't been married long. He wanted to..."

"Right. I'm sorry," she repeated. Cleared her throat, "Is there anyone else..."

The man shook his head and took a step back, away from her, away from the room. Nearer to safety. "No. Clarey wasn't from the City. She was a traveler who came here one day. Looking for something, she said. Said she found it in Mitt, my brother. Wish she'd found it some place else. Better for both of them," and he left.

Levy let him go. Alone, she dropped to her knees to study the crescent pattern of blood on the floor. It was smooth, as if it flowed around a solid shape, like a large cylinder. Nothing at all like a pair of feet. Not exactly surprising as it was more than obvious that she wasn't dealing with a human creature, but _humanoid_ would limit her options.

Of course so might a cylindrical base. How many supernatural creatures had that?

"It's probably not fully formed, either," Levy reminded herself, "so what it is now is not necessarily what it will be..."

Which also made the shape next-to useless as evidence. She would keep the information, of course, but it couldn't be her starting point. She needed her books. One more look around the room to lock the image in her memory, and she left the death and voices for the comfort of her books.

* * *

"Reading?" the mayor didn't sound angry, but surprised would cover the tone well enough.

"Research," Levy explained. "From what I can tell, your creature is unique, at least in the realm of traditional hauntings and supernatural hunters."

"Is that good or bad?"

Levy shut the book, holding her place with a finger. "It means I have to start from scratch. But it also means I don't have to wade through centuries of legends trying to pick out what is truth and what is fantasy." She took a bookmark from her bag so that she could free her hands. With the book safe on the mayor's desk, Levy gave her full attention to the old woman. "I need to see witnesses now, please. I know that it is late, but we only have a day before the next attack. I do not want another woman to die while I am here."

The mayor frowned and shifted her weight from left to right. Uncomfortable. "The port watcher," she said, "predicts fog for the morning."

Levy's eyes snapped to the windows, through which she could see the vast sea, sparkling with reflected stars.

_Fog._

"Okay." There was nothing else she could say. The closest ally guild was Blue Pegasus. They could make it in a day with their sky ship... the Capitol was closer... But no one would arrive before morning. The cart-driver's home was the last stop for all modes of regular transportation, and it wasn't profitable enough to have much in the way of modern magical technology. The Christina would be her best bet.

"I need to use your communication lacrima. I'll contact a few of my friends for support..." the mayor was shaking her head.

"We don't have any communication lacrima's here. To my knowledge no one in The City by the Sea has a lacrima at all."

"But that... that doesn't make any sense. The man I met, he had a cooling lacrima for the fish. Wouldn't all of your transportation people have that?"

"You saw the cellar. We here in the City prefer to use older methods."

_Great. Perfect._

Half a day to get to the closest town, get on their lacrima... _Well, at least I'd be away when the morning came... miss the fog... could be back by midday, here in time for the night again. Of course, then I wouldn't have any time to prepare..._

_Wait. What am I thinking?_

"Then I need you to send one of your people. Deliveries are taken out of the City, make sure they get out and contact the guilds. Fairy Tail can call in backup. I'll stay here, speak to the witnesses, and set up a trap for the … the monster. And _you_ will send out all of the people at risk. In fact, send everyone out. There's nothing that says it will stop killing when its preferred … when its," she shrugged, swallowed, and started again. "If only the women leave, it's likely that it will attack whoever is left. Let's make sure that there's no one left here but me."

"If you're alone, then you're the target." The mayor sat behind her desk and pressed her fingers into her forehead.

"I'm sure you've already requested the assistance of another guild. Just one more dead," she said, words touched with something similar to disdain. Why this woman, why this whole town hadn't done more to protect their people was beyond her. Negligence of the worst kind. Almost twenty people dead...

The mayor was shaking her head, but her eyes were too tired to make the disagreement appear to be anything other than simple exhaustion. Two weeks of deaths...

"I can't leave my City... I can't leave The City by the Sea empty. I can't do it."

"The tomorrow another woman will die. And another, the night after that. And the night after that. One of the mornings, maybe I will die. Because this is my job, and I am a mage of Fairy Tail. I can't and I won't leave. But you can. And you will."

"No," she said, "no," but her hands were shaking and her lips trembling.

"I don't understand why, money or no money, you didn't ask for better help. But until better help arrives, I'm what you have. I am not infallible," Levy told her, trying to get through the pride and the fear. "Start evacuating the town tonight. And send me the witnesses before they leave."

"I'll get you your witnesses," the mayor eventually said, "but I can't force people to leave."

"Still, you should try."

The mayor said nothing more as she left the room, and then the building. Levy returned her attention to her book, a birthday gift from Freed that she needed to become an expert on before the sun rose and the fog rolled in.

* * *

**Author's Note: **So, these are all short chapters (did I mention that before?). Means I can get the chapters out faster, so I hope y'all'll be okay with the trend continuing.

Thank you for your continued support! Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

_**The City by the Sea**_

_**Four**_

"My boy was eight. Eight and a day, he said that morning. Mama, I'm eight and a day... and I said, yes. Yes, baby, you are. Eight and a day. That's all he'll ever be. We knew that people had died, but they were all women. Three women dead, and we didn't know why. They mayor hadn't said at that point. My husband, he was worried about _me_, but … but we never even thought…

"He liked to watch the sunset by the docks. My husband comes back with the day's haul, and then the three of us, we go to watch the sun go down. Our ritual. The best part of the day for all of us. Then, when the sun had set, we'd walk home. We live right off Sea Road, so it is a straight shot up the docks to our home. The biggest road in the City. We felt safe there … why wouldn't we? We reached the intersection at Sea and Horn, and that's when it happened."

Levy lifted her pen from the paper as the woman's pause dragged on without any more words.

"Ma'am? I know this is hard, but I need..."

"Yes. Yes, I know. I know." She took a deep breath, but her eyes remained dull. She didn't cry. She didn't even shudder when retelling the story of what was undoubtedly the worst day of her life. "He stopped walking. I didn't notice at first. My husband and I were discussing the day's catch, and maybe me going to visit a friend of mine close to the Capitol. It would be good to … good to get our son out to see the world. Harder, when you get older. So we didn't notice that he stopped at Sea and Horn. Not until he screamed for me.

"I turned. I don't even remember turning, but I must have because I watched him fall. I don't remember moving, but before he screamed again I had pulled him into my lap. My husband was next to us, calling out for help. We didn't know – we still didn't know – that it had anything to do with the deaths of those others. That was some killer, some sick _person_. This was … this was _nothing_. My boy was in pain, that's all I knew. There was blood... his foot was injured, his leg. That's why he fell. That's what I knew. But he hadn't stopped screaming."

Another long pause. It felt invasive, but Levy cleared her throat, and the woman resumed speaking.

"I noticed that his other leg had begun to bleed. It didn't make any sense to me because it hadn't been injured. When he fell, when I caught him, only his left leg was bleeding. But now they both were. By that time more people had come, and a board was brought. My husband began lifting him to place him on the board so that we could take him to the City doctor, but then, in my husband's arms, a … a chunk of his cheek … it just _vanished_. And there was blood there, too. I saw it. We all saw it. There was nothing wrong, nothing at all wrong with his cheek, but then it was gone before our very eyes and _nothing had touched him_.

"I grabbed on to my husband and my son, and kept holding on to them. We never put him on that board. We held him tight between us, and our neighbors surrounded us. We begged and cried and prayed, but nothing we did made any difference. Bit by bit our son died; bit by bit he was taken away from us, from me. Bit by bit that _thing_ took him. It took half an hour."

"I'm sorry bu-"

"Just ask," not a hint of anger or sadness. Levy wondered how many times she'd repeated the story. Levy wondered where her husband was. The woman had come alone.

"Half an hour to be finished, or half an hour to … to die?"

"To finish. My son died at something like fifteen minutes."

"But … he … he had to have lost a lot of blood..."

She nodded. "At first, yes. But then it seemed to stop. He was disappearing, but only the non-vital parts at first."

Levy closed her eyes, trying to block out the woman's blank expression, trying to imagine the scene, to understand it. "What was the last to go?"

"His face. The very piece of him to vanish was his face."

"And you saw nothing? Felt nothing? Heard nothing?"

"No. If not for what was happening, I would have said it was just my husband, my son, and me on that road."

Levy made a notation on her paper, and bowed slightly. "Thank you, ma'am. That's all."

She left without another word. They'd talked for almost an hour. Levy didn't know her name. Few of these City folk gave her their names. Insular didn't begin to cover the place. Even if The City by the Sea didn't have a monster hunting the streets, it certainly lived up to its reputation of creepiness.

She had talked to a dozen witnesses, and they had all reported some variation of the mother's story. An invisible, non-corporal creature that consumed its victims until all that was left was blood. Absolutely all. Not a single hair.

Well, the clothes were left, she supposed, but those hadn't been any help. They were no different than any other set of stained clothes Levy had ever set eyes on. Clues were scarce.

During her interview, a storm formed and broke over the City. The sound was quickly reminding her of the exhausting walk between Longroad and The City by the Sea, and the many hours after arriving pumped on adrenalin and very little food.

"One more," she told the man who had taken on the duty of seeing people in and out of the mayor's office, "and then I need to sleep."

He nodded as he ushered in a woman who was at least 100 years old, possibly even 200. Levy could hardly see her mouth or eyes they were so shrouded in salt-water-and-sun dried wrinkles.

"This one was there for one of the other mages," the man told her before leaving to give them some privacy.

"The youngster's right," the old woman's voice was like silk, completely at odds with her appearance. Strong, smooth, rich, and somehow luxurious. A gift to hear. Levy's muscles relaxed marginally, and her hand – clinched as it was around her pen – loosened. She even unbent enough to smile.

"You're the first person I've had who is reporting on the mages' deaths. Please tell me all that you remember."

"I suppose you've been told of the fog. The mornings have been full of fog these two weeks. Not exactly unusual for this time of year, what with the heat and the rain, but even before the first mage was taken there was a sinister feel to the weather."

"How do you mean?"

Her arms lifted to mime _carrying_, and her sleeves slipped back to reveal equally wrinkled hands and strong wrists. The way the muscles flexed with the gesture, Levy suspected the woman still worked. "I handle my grandkids' and great grandkids' nets. Nine of them, and not a one any good at making or mending nets," she clicked her tongue. "The morning after the first death, there was fog. I walked through it to take a mended net to my granddaughter, and – I'm not sure if you'll understand – the mist tasted rotten. The salt tasted more sour than bitter, and the water in the fog felt laced with oil.

"It wasn't," the woman shook her head. "The water left no mark on me or my clothing, and oil stains as easily and as badly as any other thing, but my clothes and skin were as clean as when I left. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling of oddness I got from that morning. Three days later there was another fog. A few days after that we had four mornings of fog in a row. That's when the guild-mage died."

"And you were there?" Levy asked, though the answer was obvious.

"Yes. Taking that same net to my granddaughter. Girl's hopeless with her nets." She cleared her throat and the skin around her face swayed. Levy bit her lip; the image she made, wrinkles and muscles and voice, was becoming more and more humorous to her. She blamed the sleep deprivation. There was nothing humorous in The City by the Sea. "I met the woman, Kandic her name was, near the intersection of Port and Painter. That's one up from Port and Park, the intersection for the docks."

"Right." Levy consulted _Map,_ which still glowed at her side.

"She told me that she was making a study of the town. Trying to discover if any pockets of evil were hiding. I told her that if a _pocket of evil_ were to hide somewhere in the City, it wouldn't be on Port Road. Port's the second largest road in the City, after Sea. Nothing can hide on Port. She laughed and said that for an invisible force, any place could be a hiding place.

"She was odd like that," the woman mused, "laughing about evil on our bloodied streets. But she was right. As she stood there laughing and looking around the intersection, I saw that her nose had started to bleed."

"Her nose?"

"Yes. Her nose."

That was unusual. All of the others she had interviewed told her that the victims were injured from the _outside_. Being consumed, eaten. A bloody nose suggested that the first wound was _inside_ the body. Levy leaned forward.

"And what happened next?"

"By that time we all knew what was happening. We knew most of the details, too many had died at that point for anything to be kept secret-"

"It was being kept secret?"

"At first. They didn't want anyone to be afraid. Or to leave the City. This is high season for us. Lots of fish migrate away from the west of Fiore in the winter, but now every type of fish you could think of is less than a day's travel from our shores. And to reap that bounty we need all hands either at sea or supporting those on the water. So they, the mayor and them, were trying to keep the story quiet. Didn't work. You can't hide that many deaths, not when they're so violent, and not when the victims are so young."

"True. I'm sorry I interrupted. Please, continue; you suspected that Kandic was being attacked?"

"Yes, dear, I did. After her nose, I saw blood in her hair. From her ear, though it took me a moment to figure out where the blood was coming from. I'd heard stories about other victims. Some friends of my sons came and told us that his neighbor had heard one of the girls screaming during. But that Kandic, she didn't scream."

"Why, do you think?"

"Well, by the time the worst was happening, she'd already gone. The nose, the ears, like I said, and some from her eyes, but very little. She fell to the ground. I tried to catch her, but my arms were full of the nets, and I'm not as quick on my feet as I once was. Her head cracked on the stone. I think she was dead before, but if she wasn't, that had done the job."

"And then?"

The woman shrugged, "And then it ate her, just like all the others."

But it wasn't like the others. It wasn't a thing like any of the others, but the death.

"And her clothes were left, like with the others?"

"Yes."

Levy put her hands flat on the desk and met the woman's eyes, tucked deep inside her skin, "And the blood?"

"All there. All left."

"But very little before she fell."

"Couldn't fill a cup." She tilted her head to the side, "It was not fresh. She didn't bleed as a live person would bleed. I can barely remember her bleeding at all, but it was a horrible sight … When she was gone, there was red everywhere. I hadn't touched any of her but her head, put it in my lap like it could give her some comfort," she snorted, "but my skirts were stained and stiff with the stuff."

"But you don't remember how that happened."

"No," and there was wonder and confusion in that silken voice. "No, I don't."

Levy didn't understand what it meant, but being different than all the rest made it an important fact.

"What went last?" she asked, a final question before she sent the woman away and made for her own bed. (_And likely my own nightmares._)

"Her torso. The limbs went first, then her head … Her hair was eaten away from the scalp … fell into my lap, loose, and then disappeared," a shudder rocked her small frame. "Then the rest. And last was the torso."

"Thank you, ma'am. I appreciate everything you told me, and I'm sorry you had to relive the experience."

"Anything to make this horror end," the woman told her while she pushed from her seat and turned to the door. A crisp nod, and the woman was out of the room, leaving Levy to ponder her story.

"The limbs, hair, head, and finally the torso..." she tapped her finger to her chin and spun around in the large chair. "But it wasn't the limbs that went first," she disagreed with the woman's statement. "Dead before she fell, it couldn't have been the limbs." She stopped the chair so that she could stare out of the window at the frantic waves and the slap-happy rain.

"It was the brain that went first," Levy finally told the dreary view of The City by the Sea. "Brain first and torso last. The only one to be taken in that way, and she a mage. That has to mean something, but what?" She yawned.

There was an answer there, she could almost touch it, but her exhaustion was keeping her away from grasping the piece of truth that would reveal what she was missing. She would sleep for a few hours, and then, when she woke, she would solve this puzzle.

Backup would come, but until it did, Levy was determined that no other person of The City by the Sea would die by the monster's will.

* * *

**Author's Note**: So there's that. At this point I'm considering upping the rating to _M_. I might just be getting too graphic for the _T_ rating.

Anyway, thank you very much for reading, and please remember to review. I appreciate it greatly.


	5. Chapter 5

**The City by the Sea**

**Five**

As many missions as she had gone on in her life, Levy was used to waking in unfamiliar beds, but (as she had suspected) her dreams were nightmares, and her sleep had been foul. Waking up to find herself still in the middle of it all didn't make her morning any better.

And there was fog.

After the last death they knew that solitude was no protection, so Levy did not bother to hide herself. Not that she tempted fate by actually going outside. She wasn't a fool. No, she spent the few hours left until noon interviewing more witnesses.

Adult, male witnesses. And more ancient (yet hardy) old women. Everyone else had the same idea: stay out of the fog.

There wasn't that much new in their stories. The youngest boy had been especially hard as he was playing with friends at the time. Only other children to see. The boy's uncle relayed the story, passing on the gathered recollections of the event … but third-hand...

The worst was a woman taken in her bed with only her husband to see. Only other woman to go torso last. Lower torso, in fact. She had been almost three months pregnant. Days away from being able to announce the pregnancy to her friends and family.

Levy had no words of comfort for any of them. What _words_ could encompass such sorrow? She had none, so she took notes and said little

When the last person left the building, the mayor retook her office. She looked as tired as Levy felt, and Levy ached for her. How responsible she must feel. As mayor, it was her duty to look after the people of The City by the Sea. And she was failing.

She had failed.

But then, Levy remembered the job request and two dead guild mages. It was right that the woman accept some level of responsibility. It was difficult to believe that a town that specialized in rare sea goods like The City by the Sea did couldn't raise the funds to hire an s-level mage. Even several.

Levy wasn't beginning to doubt her own abilities, and the more she heard the more she knew someone like Mirajane or Laxus or Gildarts wouldn't be suited for such a subtle fight. Still, there was no way they could have insured that they would get a suitable mage with a false request. It made no sense, and for that reason the mayor _should_ feel guilty.

However, ridding the City of their killer was more important than assigning blame.

She left the house and began walking down the hill to the coast. By the amount of noise she could hear coming from the docks, they hadn't listened to her recommendation. Very few, if any, people had fled the City.

Damn.

The sun was high and hot; the fog burned away. They thought they were safe. Levy did not. It also added to her responsibilities; her job was to vanquish the threat to the City, but she couldn't ignore the safety of the population, either.

Why wouldn't the mayor listen to her?! She would give anything to be as intimidating as Gajeel or Laxus or Erza. Or, even better, be able to flip from her normal self to be intimidating like Mira, Natsu, and Pantherlily. _Then_ these people would do what she told them.

She heaved a heavy sigh and set out to circle the city. She could hardly afford the power to put protective barriers over _everything_. Not that they'd do more than trap it inside, if that since she didn't know the parameters needed to trap what she didn't understand, but she had to create a protection of some kind or else further deaths would be inevitable instead of likely.

She walked down Port road, and then back east up Sea road. Then she made a quarter circle to walk Coast north and Overland south. Each step left _hope_ in her left footprint and _safety_ in her right. Ephemeral things, much like her enemy, and far from foolproof, but it was an effort worth making. She gestured and dripped _seal_ from her fingertips, which would maybe be a bit more useful.

Before the sun had set, Levy made her way back to the mayor's mansion for food and an update.

"There are still people here," she said as soon as she saw the mayor.

"Almost all of the boys have gone, along with their mothers, but – as I said – it's impossible to force people from their homes. They need to work to feed their families-"

"Not right now they don't. And, anyway, they can fish off of the coast outside the city limits for a _day_."

"That's not-"

"By staying here you are providing a buffet for this thing all while forcing me to split my resources. _Leave_ and the only place the creature will go for food is to _me_."

"You're offering yourself as bait?" Levy couldn't quite read the emotional reaction that burned in the woman's eyes.

"Basically. It's the only way I can guarantee I'll find it. Wandering around the city, setting traps is something, but I have to know what it is to make a trap capable of holding and keeping it."

"I will speak with them again, tomorrow," the mayor said with a decisive nod.

Levy grit her teeth in frustration, crossing her arms and trying to invoke absolutely _anyone_ more intimidating, but her thoughts went mainly to Gajeel and Laxus. They did it best.

Her mimicry failed, so she went with words instead. "Talk with them _now_," she ordered. "The sun is about to set. I've divided the City into four quadrants, and I need to focus on that to best this thing if..."

There was a sensation of a rubber-band being snapped, and she toppled over as a line of magic returned to her.

A quick intake of breath and a grunt of pain were all she allowed herself before closing her eyes. She traced the sensation, and felt an area bare of her magic between Sea and Coast, not quite on the shore. Stopping only to grab her bag, Levy left the house at a run with the mayor making startled sounds as the door slammed.

The mayor's house was in the center of the four major intersections in The City by the Sea – Port/Overland, Sea/Overland, Port/Coast, Sea/Coast – which made crossing into the Coast/Sea quarter fast and easy. Unfortunately, Coast/Sea was also the main area for the fishing industry. At its busiest in the late evenings after the day's catch was in, there were people everywhere.

"Go east!" she screamed. "East of Coast road! Go _now_!"

They looked at her with expressions that accused her of madness.

"It's _here_!" she roared, or tried to. The people who reacted weren't responding to the roar, she knew, but the words. Which really summed up the whole of her self, she supposed.

Several of those nearest her began packing up their work, preparing to run. Fewer ran without bothering with packing. Far too many did not run at all.

Blood splashed her face and chest.

Time stood still as her brain struggled to analyze and catch up with the situation. A man so close she could have cupped his cheek with her far hand, fell. Through a ragged hole in his midsection she could see the last boat pulling in for the night.

"_BOX_!" she yelled, waving a hand at the man she he fell. Her wrist snapped, and the dead man's face pressed against the semi-translucent word, which she hoped held more than just his body. "_SEAL_!" she yelled again, wrapping _box_ up in further protections.

_I've got you_, she thought, and felt like smiling. Until the rest of the quarter began screaming, and four more bodies fell.

**Author's Note:**

A general/awful map of The City by the Sea

~~~|-Port

~~~| | | - Rest of Fiore (Capitol/Magnolia/etc)

~~~|-Sea

Coast Overland

Like I said, terrible map, but whatever.

I had something important to say here, but I don't remember what it was... Oh, apparently (according to chapter 367) Levy can track things with "island/moving square thing/we went here and there and moved that way" … cool. I can use that.


	6. Chapter 6

**The City by the Sea**

**Chapter 6**

_Focus_, she told herself. _Focus!_

She reached up with her right hand and touched her guild mark.

_Focus!_

The smell of fresh blood was, sadly, all too familiar to her, what with the overabundance of slug fests she'd paid witness to over the years. An unexpected edge; the stench was not a distraction. She'd have to thank Natsu and Gray when she made it home.

Blood and brine were no bother, but the disappearing bodies most certainly were. The man with the hole in his chest no longer had a chest.

_Focus!_

Five down at once, and it was still there. She could see it working its way through the fallen bodies, her box not having much, if any, affect on it. She dropped her bag and crouched by it, hastily throwing up another _BOX_, this one around her. She had no other way to protect herself. Her only hope was that it would be too caught up in what it was doing to turn on her.

An awful thought.

More of the bodies vanished into the nothingness of the creature's presence. She swallowed. Levy had only two books that would serve, and she pulled both out while trying to ignore the gory chaos around her.

Her own blood was ice, and her stomach a rolling pool of magma-hot acid. Her hands shook as she turned the pages, pulling her glasses from her bag and sliding them on her face.

Not fast enough, not fast enough. Page after page she turned, not finding what she wanted. What she needed. Then, two-thirds of the way through, she thought she found something. With her pen she drew runes on her arms and legs.

"Écriture non-vie."

Based on Freed's spells, but altered ever-so-slightly to better fit her own self, she used the rune magic to write unlife onto her skin. Giving her the appearance of a non-living thing, and – again, _hopefully_ – erasing her being from the monster's senses.

With a quick, entirely guilty glance at the fallen City folk, Levy dropped the _BOX_ around her and the ineffective one around … well, nothing. Nothing at all. No body. No blood.

She did not scream.

That was important to her. _Be brave, _she told herself. _No one to cover for you. No one to help. Be brave._

She ran back to the mayor as quickly as her two short legs could carry her. The door was open, and the old woman was pacing in the foyer.

"Five dead. Men, old women. No more rules," Levy forced the words through her heavy breathing. "Everyone out. Best case, still … few hours, maybe even a day until help arrives. Can't wait. Need … need people gone. _Now._"

"I can't go if people are still here," the mayor snapped. "And if we all go, how will we know when it's safe to come back or if you need help." From her tone of voice, the second was less important.

Levy coughed and waved a hand. _"Communicator_."

She handed the microphone-sized word to the mayor, making a second for herself. "When it's over, I'll contact you. Until then, leave. I have traps to set."

She had no plan. Well, that wasn't really true. She had no _good_ plan. No _safe_ plan. No plan that any of her friends would approve of; risky. Making herself bait and relying on shields she had already watched fail.

Back to the streets she went, headed for the Sea/Overland intersection. Most of the deaths had taken place west of Overland. She thought that might allow her a moment or two of extra time. Maybe.

As she ran for the crossroads, she whispered words. Dozens of them. Maybe even hundreds. Her lips were moving with barely a thought. Whispers of speed and luck and safety, safety, safety... For now, at least. Soon enough she would have to abandon safety.

_Such_ a fantastic plan.

When she reached the intersection she tossed down her bag and spread her arms. "_Shield!_" The word was large, covering the whole of the intersection. She pushed it into the road itself, waiting for the monster to fall into the trap. For twenty feet down each down each stretch of road, Levy drew large symbols representing concepts like _best path _and _chosen path_ and _only path_. Five feet beyond those she wrote _one way_.

It would not turn, would not leave, once it had entered her territory.

Pen out, she covered her body in runes, replacing those of unlife with the brightest beacon of life she could pull out of her magic. She called the creature to her with her self and her power, and she trembled. Fear. Exhaustion. Stress. _Anger_.

She wanted to add to the pattern. Wanted something to connect her to the creature, but she was still unclear on its desires. There had to be something more to this than the spread of terror or, or, or _dinner_. Something not quite as simplistic as a monster. Too many dead and too quickly. There _had_ to be something more.

Her skin was blackened by words. Blackened and sparkling. Magic and knowledge. She was afraid to die. Afraid she had overreached herself. She could have emptied the city of _her_ as well. Leaving it trapped, alone, while waiting for help to come.

But no, she chose to face this faceless beast alone. She was an _idiot_.

Her skin burned. The words seeped into her, out of her. She turned from her own body to the road beneath her feet. Roads were good for rune traps. Clean lines for clean rules.

She began.

It wasn't purposeful, the mixing of her blood into the magic. Dangerous thing, but it was near to impossible to stop what had already started.

What had already started?

When had she begun bleeding? Blood? There was blood, she remembered blood (so much blood), but that blood wasn't her own. This was. This came from her body, dripped from her nose. She reached up to touch the flow, distant. Distracted.

A wave of dizziness swept over her and she staggered back along the lines she had drawn into the road. Her head swiveled on her neck – left, right, forward, back – and waiting for her when she finally steadied was the monster.

An outline and no more, but it chilled her through skin and bone and soul. She could see a score of dead spread out along the air, a stench that could not be erased by the wards holding it back. Drawing it near and holding it back.

Holding. Holding. Please, please, holding.

She stood. It "stood". She faced it. It "faced" her.

Now, to work.

–-

* * *

**Author's Note: **Took a little longer than I thought. Sorry about that. Next one should be a hair faster to release. And hopefully not quite as short.


	7. Chapter 7

**The City by the Sea**

**Chapter 7**

The blood made her fingers sticky and her mind waver. The power, her power, forming and fueling the runes, trembled. She looked up, over, around; she shivered. She swallowed. She turned in the direction of Coast. The coast. The sea.

It shimmered before her, a memory of clearest glass.

She almost screamed, but stopped herself. This was what she wanted. She had to see it to know it, and had to know it to defeat it. She narrowed her eyes, trying to decipher what she saw into something she could understand.

Its frame was difficult to discern, but it was vaguely humanoid. She watched it sway, tilting on nothing, as if uncertain. Or uncomfortable. Levy watched the movement, touching her tongue to her lips. Tasting her blood and...

And what?

The creature snapped, no longer swaying. Levy's head felt heavy, pounded from above. She looked up, but there was nothing there to attack her. Nothing to fear. Fear was forward, fear was slick and nigh transparent.

_Why_, she forced herself to wonder, to seek for knowledge, to fight fear, _women? Why prepubescent boys? Why mages?_

Another sway, another snap. Was it closer? Had it broken through her barriers?

"To make a body," it was the only answer, but _why_?

The creature did not appear to move, but it was closer with each second. Her heart beat hard, forcing her to catch her breath at the pain. _The shields_, she reminded herself, _are strong. I am safe_.

Inside the creature's form, thinner than hair, there were lines, dark in color, or so they appeared in contrast to her magically created light. All angles, those lines. No smooth curves.

_Unnatural_.

She almost laughed at the thought. It wasn't like she expected nature to have a place in the situation.

"Hello," she said, and congratulated herself on the evenness of her tone. There was no response. Not a twitch; not a shimmer. Did it not comprehend? Could it not hear? Did it not care?

Did it matter?

"No," she answered herself, "it does not."

She raised a hand, palm flat and forward facing. "_Reveal_."

The word appeared, outlined in black and filled with transparent green. Through it she saw the form take glowing shape. She counted six – what she would call – limbs. Four things that might be arms, two legs. There was no neck, and the "head" appeared as a splitting cell. The cleavage point in the middle pinched to the halfway point of division.

Her left hand gestured, and in a louder voice she commanded, "_Box_."

The "_o_" grew and grew until it slipped around the figure, forming a cylinder as it dropped from "head" to "feet", resting on the cobbles and holding the monster in place. The "_b_" and "_x_" wrapped around the "_o_" adding to the prison.

Rune commands were not a field she was expert in, unfortunately. She'd read on the subject and made a study of Freed's methods. She did not have her own style, but she was adept enough to make use of Freed's style, altering it slightly to suit her own needs. They wouldn't be as powerful as his, but it worked with the hiding before, and it seemed to work with the beacon, so she thought she could pull off a few harder rune commands.

"_É__criture nom_," she said as she wrote the rune on the walls of her _BOX_.

Knowing the name of the creature was not necessarily important. Levy was certain that she could destroy it without the name, but it would be useful if such a case ever came again. And there was her curiosity to be fed.

The power of the _BOX_ trembled. Levy stepped back. "_Contain_. _Hold_. _Enforce_."

Each word was a layer of protection over the _BOX_. Her view of the captive dimmed, but she could still make out those fine lines. She could still see the glowing shape of her rune command.

Deep within, the _BOX_ continued to tremble, but it held. Levy proceeded to write the command for name on the outermost layer of the containment. A shudder shook the ground. A tone, short, booming entered the soles of her feet, vibrating up through her bones.

_Chuku_, was the sound, _chuku_. It was a round sound for all of its spoken spikes.

"Chuku_,_" Levy spoke but could not recreate what she heard echoing within her body. Instead she put her pen to the _BOX_ again.

_É__criture nom. __É__criture nom._

_Chuku._

It meant nothing to her, that sound. It wasn't enough, that containment.

_É__criture __é__tant_, she wrote. If not the name, she demanded its existence. She demanded it reveal what it _was_.

Her skin went cold as all of her magic was drawn into that one rune, that one command. And then a flush of heat as it was sent back to her with all the force of that same power. Levy staggered as the booming crashes rang again, inside the _BOX_, outside, under the soles of her feet.

BOOM.

BOOM.

BOOM.

The whole of The City by the Sea shook. She stumbled, tripped, tilted, fell. Her right hand twisted at an angle, catching her but pitching her sideways. Her shoulder skinned as it slid across the rocks. The sky joined the earth in its rage, and lightening cut across the darkness above.

CRACK.

BOOM.

BOOM.

BOOM.

Her mind was flooded by memories that had nothing to do with her own life. The salt of her own blood on her tongue mutated and spread. Spread to every part of her. Salt, brine, water, sea. It was everything.

BOOM.

BOOM.

BOOM.

The _BOX_, wrapped as it was in the commands she had made, shook, and memories continued their assault. She felt herself, herself and not herself. There was silk on her skin. Cold and smooth, dancing ice. She could taste every flavor of water on her tongue, sweet and sour and rich, bold, life-giving.

BOOM.

CRACK.

BOOM.

BOOM.

Her ears rang with more than the earth's trembling. The music of whales caused an aching loss to blossom in her gut. A flutter of bubbles. The giggling play of fins dancing around her. Season upon season of moonlight on water. Years of following migratory patterns of her wandering family, of getting to know all corners of the vast ocean. Losing family, gaining family. Meeting friends and leaving friends.

And love, she knew that, tasted that, heard that, there in the deep.

BOOM.

BOOM.

CRACK.

BOOM.

Ages weighed upon her. Heavy, alone.

BOOM.

BOOM.

BOOM.

She felt an end, a nothingness.

And then she was reborn. Stumbling. Confused. Hungry. Trapped. Scared. _Guilty_. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.

There was no water to taste, now, only blood and flesh. So much fear. So much guilt. So much _hunger_. She wanted to leave, to go back to nothing, but power held her to this non-life, and power commanded that she return to a state of wholeness.

The more she devoured the more she condensed into something resembling her former self. The confusion and fear gained complexity. The guilt gained strength. She needed to leave, needed to be free, and for that she would need to feed from a place different from where she was chained. Lengthen the tether until it could break.

The water. She missed the water. She wanted, wanted, _wanted_ to return to the nothing of her sea-floor death.

But then there was a pulsing beat in her lower abdomen, and the confusion returned a thousand fold. A child...

"The nin." Levy rolled to her knees. Pitched sideways, heaving. "A ghost of the nin." She swallowed back a feeling of nausea.

The creature. The creature that couldn't truly be called a creature, took on some density. The four "arms" became two, flattening into fins. The two "legs" became one. One thick tail. The cleavage point between the two heads became shallow. It wasn't dividing. It was merging.

The nin. The nin.

They were fish, rare fish from the deepest and most mysterious places in the vast ocean. Of all the rare sea creatures a fisher from The City by the Sea could bring home, a nin was the rarest possible. It's face resembled so closely that of a human that it was considered terrible fortune to kill one and bring it ashore. But the fish was also said to bring immortality. Feared and desired in equal measure. Well. No. Not equal. Some people would reach and risk any danger if fortune or immortality were the reward.

But then this, this nin, this nin was dead. A ghost. None could eat its flesh.

_The lines. The energy. That life... a child._

"Women for fertility. Boys for the unborn."

She shuddered.

"Idiots," she whispered. So many harsher words, words others she knew would use, but none would be clearer. "_Idiots_!"

_Did they know?_ she wondered. The City people who had hired her, her and the others... Someone knew, someone had to know. Someone had called it from its sea-floor death.

"Their daughters as sacrifices!"

She tasted water, again.

"Freedom. Outsiders. Magic. _They_ brought magicians, female magicians, because they had to appear to do _something_. Female so that the nin-ghost could and would fight back and take the mages as sacrifices. It took the non-City-folk sacrifice because those magicians were of non-City blood with non-City memories. The summoner didn't realize it could use them to free itself."

She looked at the lines, thin, but bold, and at the merging. The creature was clearly taking control of itself. Was that intended?

The nin. Levy knew very little about the sea creatures. Considered by some an object of evil, by others one of desire. A ritual murder and consumption of the flesh of a nin could bring – most likely – death or – rarely – near-immortality.

The City … they were _creating_ a nin. "Reviving the nin." Levy had never heard of a single sighting of a true nin. To her knowledge, before today, they _were_ legend.

"The flesh of a nin … a nin child, a single _weak_ nin child could potentially bring in more money than a year's worth of fish. Even the rarest forms of mundane sea life could not match the value of a nin."

The ground trembled.

"You can't kill," Levy told the thing, wiping blood from her chin and tears from her cheeks. She hadn't realized she was crying. She couldn't cry. She _wouldn't_ cry. She had to do this; she had to do this. "I can't let you kill." _Breeding nin!_ "Twenty lives..." a tear broke through her resolve, slipped down her cheek, and splashed on her chest. "You were also hurt, brought back to a not-life. Controlled. Made to kill. Kept from the waters..."

Just the word brought those memories, memories from another life, crashing down on Levy's heart once more. The ache she felt for the water, the ache she felt for the taste of salt and sea, weakened her knees and tore a sob from her throat.

Levy hid her face in her hands. She didn't know what to do. Didn't know how to fix the situation. She couldn't, she _could not_ tell the Council, tell _anyone_ about the nin. Others would do what The City by the Sea had done.

She was near to hyperventilating as she dropped layer after layer of shields. She barely kept herself from weeping while kneeling in front of her _BOX_. The apparition was one being, now, and through _REVEAL_ she could see that those dark lines had condensed into a throbbing ball at the center of its form.

_Écriture nom._

_Zentai._

_Écriture étant._

Levy focused on each foreign memory that sang through her. She gathered them for justice. Gathered them for her own remembrance. The crime of this, she should never forget. She stood on shaking legs and willed what few tears escaped her to stop.

"I'm sorry," she told the nin, the memory, the essence of the nin, who had long ago been hunted to extinction. "No matter the number of people you ate, of life consumed, you are not alive. So you cannot continue to exist. I'm sorry."

She absorbed the rage, the helplessness, the guilt, the fear, all of what came to her within her own mind; she took the emotion of the nin into her own heart.

"You cannot remain, but I promise you justice," she told the nin as she touched her pen to the air.

_Écriture defaire._

She could not kill, but uncreating...

"I'm so sorry."

The sky and earth and night and stars beat her with a multitude of screams. The nin split, shredded. One, two, three, four … over and over until 20 shaking forms surrounded her. One by one those, too, shredded down to the last, which crumbled.

When all else had gone, only she was left. And one raisin-sized eye, dark and shrived from long exposure to salt and sea.

She swayed. "_FIRE." _

And it burned.

Only she. And no other.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Nin are roughly equal to the Japanese mythical "ningyo", a fish with a human-like face, responsible for the legend that if you eat the flesh of a ningyo you can gain immortality. The wandering nun and all that. Though often translated as "mermaid" I didn't use the term mermaid because the western mermaid legends and, especially, appearance aren't truly equivalent.

Sorry for the wait. I'll try to be quicker next time, but I make no promises. Should be one more chapter and an epilogue.


	8. Chapter 8

**The City by the Sea**

**Chapter 8**

_Écriture vérité. _

_Écriture honte._

_Écriture souffrir en silence._

_Écriture marque._

She wrote the runes on the street where the story of the nin had ended. Truth, shame, silent suffering, and _mark_. She then stumbled to the mayor's home. From her bags she pulled out strong tea, dried meat, and three sweet rolls. It wasn't sleep, but she wanted to leave. She wanted to finish this madness and return home.

She needed to leave.

"You can return," she told the mayor through the spell she created. "I have destroyed the creature. Your homes and people are safe now."

It wasn't exactly a lie. They were safe from the creature. But not from themselves. Not from her.

"I will wait in the City square to give my report to the City people."

If Levy hadn't discovered guilt of The City by the Sea on her own, the mayor's expression still would have created suspicion. The old woman had expected her to die. It was clear in those wrinkles around her hidden eyes. In the creases that framed her dry lips.

"Please hurry. I need to report back to my guild. I did not expect to stay so long here."

Surprise. Distrust Levy could almost feel it despite being connected only through the magic of the communication rune. Levy maintained a neutral expression, which wasn't hard considering her general exhaustion.

"Ah," the mayor's voice was sticky, "but how tired you look. Surely you should take one more day to rest..."

"Thank you, but no."

"Well, we are but a league away from the City's border. We will be to you shortly."

The image in the crystal vanished, and Levy sat heavily on a bench. Deep lungfuls of air to steady her, and coiled fist to contain her boiling anger. How many knew?"

"_Reveal_." She made the word small, tiny, to accommodate her wakened state, and sat the transparent green word over her right eye. It wasn't certain to work, but the word might allow her to see the guilt of those people responsible for the nin. Responsible for the deaths of 20 people, women and children, City folk, transplants, and two misled guild mages.

* * *

"The demon who came," Levy warily and wearily scanned the crowd as she gave her speech, which was to be short, "has been disposed of." A silence followed, long and heavy.

"How do we know it's true," a man with dark hair and shadowed eyes asked.

"I am still alive," Levy answered. "I was alone here, no one else to take, and I am still alive."

"But it had already fed for the night!" an anonymous woman trembled as she pointed at her. Levy could understand her fear. "Maybe it just went away! Maybe you're LYING!"

"_Écriture v__é__r__ité,_" she wrote on her skin in a glowing rune. "I can tell nothing but the truth. I shall give you a name that is not my own. My name is-" and she struggled. The rune gave off a red flash, and she coughed. "My name is _Levy_," the rune faded to a pleasant white, "and I destroyed the creature," and remained white.

Murmuring, then, and tears.

Levy was patient. She waited as the crowd cleared away. Mothers returning their children to their beds. Fisher-folk returning to the harbor to check out their boats and ready themselves for the morning's work. She watched as the mayor of The City by the Sea wearily returned to her home. Levy would go to her later and confront her about the way she treated the other mages.

But now she had to deal with the person who called up the nin. Those mothers, those sons, those fisher-folk, and that mayor ... they were all nothing before the one who waited.

It was an hour before she could speak with the one who wore a badge of shame, the image of Levy's own created rune. In the walk back into the City proper, only one person was tagged. Only one person was responsible for the 20 deaths. Only one villain.

And Levy had no idea what to do with her.

"How about we take a walk to the sea, ma'am, and talk." She was afraid. More afraid than when she faced the nin.

The old woman gave no complaint. She flexed those hands, those net-making hands, and nodded. Together they turned west. Towards the sea.

"I didn't sense any magic on you," Levy said to her as the two walked down Port, "when we spoke before. The whole time you told me the story of the guild mage, I didn't sense a hint of magic on you. "So how did you do it? And _why_?"

"We're nin-born," she said, voice like silk. "Generation after generation, our family prospered from the sea..." she grunted and waved her hands with their strong wrists in frustration. "Nine grandchildren. Not a-one of them can handle their own nets. Not a-one."

"You … because of..." Levy considered the words. "You were falling behind. Your family was falling behind."

"Yes. I have savings. Built on what my mother and grandmother, and their mothers and grandmothers, built, but they'll be dry before I pass. Dry keeping my blood afloat. Rarest fish bring the most money. We were pullin' in bait fish and no more."

"Quality," Levy stared at the dark water, a shade darker even than the dying-night sky, "over quantity. A nin, _one_ nin, would set your family for another generation. Maybe even two."

"Yes."

"How did you do it?"

"We had the relic-"

"The eye."

"Yes. The relic, a memory of our ancestors. Didn't matter how old or how _dead_, the soul of a nin is life, forever life. I called to it. Offered it flesh and blood."

"And it answered."

"Yes."

She suppressed a shiver. She needed strength. "You knew it would claim the lives of others."

"Yes."

"Was it under your command?" Levy demanded. "Did you choose its victims?"

"No."

"You lie," Levy finally turned to face the woman. "Had you no control, it would have fed on _you_."

There was no answer to that. No simple, sharp yes.

Levy and the old woman stood in silence together. For far too long.

"The punishment you deserve," Levy finally said, "I cannot give you." The old woman stood slightly straighter, but Levy shook her head. She held her pen slightly outside of the woman's view. "But I cannot allow this to get out There are other people, powerful people who would kill dozens for a chance at immortality. As you well know, since you were hanging your fortunes on those same people paying you a lifetime's wage for it. You also must know that they would pay for the secret of how to do it themselves, if the secret was all you had."

She whipped out her pen, "_Écriture v__é__r__ité._"

"Yes."

"Do your grandchildren or children know?"

"No."

"Do any others know? Anyone at all?"

The old woman struggled with a word, that beautiful voice reduced to grunts as the rune on her chest flashed red. Finally she managed, "A cousin who left the city two decades ago for Longroad. He knows that it can be done. He knows what we were, when we had power."

"Well, you have no power now," Levy told her. She raised her pen, which seemed so much heavier as sunlight broke over the eastern horizon, once more:

"You will not speak again of anything regarding the nin, how to raise them, of immortality: _Écriture faire taire._"

She swallowed, so tired.

"You will not communicate this knowledge through writing or any other way that might spread the story: _Écriture censeur_."

She swayed. The old woman groaned.

"For the remainder of your days, you will not leave the borders of The City by the Sea, even by water: _Écriture enfermer._"

Her breathing was labored. The old woman was shaking.

"And you will remember the pain of the creature you raised, those memories that she gave to me before dying a second death: _Écriture mémento. Écriture empathie;_ as if it were your own."

As Levy fell to her knees, she heard a sound in the distance. She looked up to see the Christina hallowed against the rising sun.

The mayor had sent a messenger to Longroad, after all. And help had arrived.

Finally. And too late.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Only the epilogue left to go. Hope you enjoyed this little chapter. Please review. I do appreciate reviews and make every attempt to reply to those reviews with my thanks. But, I'll go ahead and thank you in advance, as well. Thank you!


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